


Anthiana Jones (Crowley) and the Lost Book

by EveningStarcatcher



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Inspired by Indiana Jones, Inspired by Whiteley Foster, M/M, Snake Crowley (Good Omens)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-17
Updated: 2020-03-17
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:55:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23179597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EveningStarcatcher/pseuds/EveningStarcatcher
Summary: For the Great Good Omens Snake-OffInspired by a conversation with a friend and @whiteleyfoster’s amazingartCrowley and Aziraphale go on an adventure!
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 16
Kudos: 74
Collections: The Snake Pit





	Anthiana Jones (Crowley) and the Lost Book

“I told you that you didn’t have to come along, my dear.” Aziraphale chided softly. He held a white pith helmet in his hands, a sturdy explorer jacket replaced his usual antique coat, and tall brown spats covered his boots and lower legs. His pale hair was golden in the torchlight, his blue eyes laughed and wrinkled around the edges. It was absolutely endearing and Crowley hated it.

“Though I do think you’re enjoying the warm weather. Egypt is lovely this time of year, isn’t it?” the angel added, distracted by a particularly interesting symbol carved into the wall. 

“I wasn’t going to let you go alone. Get yourself discorporated.” Crowley muttered as he paced ahead down the dim tunnel, holding the torch aloft, casting long shadows against the hieroglyphic- and cobweb-covered walls behind him. Aziraphale, noticing the fading light, hustled to keep up with the demon’s long strides.

“I’m quite capable of taking care of myself.” Aziraphale’s voice wavered slightly, as if holding back a laugh.

“Oh! Are you?” Crowley stopped suddenly and turned on his heel, causing Aziraphale to stumble against his chest, clutching at Crowley’s shoulders to regain his balance. “Last time I checked, this isn’t the first time I’ll be around to save you. Remember the Bastille?” He was thankful for the black lenses blocking his eyes from view.

“Of course I remember!” Aziraphale’s cheeks were flushing pink, his hands still resting against the black fabric of Crowley’s shirt. “How could I forget?” he added quietly, the ghost of a smile dusting over his lips.

“Well, then, you know why I have to be here. Foolish angel’s bound to get himself into trouble.” Crowley ensured that Aziraphale was firmly settled onto his own feet, then stepped away.

“I like the new look,” the angel cast him a cheeky side glance as he adjusted his vest, smoothing it down over his soft stomach. “Though the footwear’s a bit much.” He chuckled as he gave Crowley a once-over, lips pressed into a thin smirk. 

Crowley’s travelling outfit consisted of sleek black boots that came up over his knees, giving way to tight maroon trousers. He had pushed the sleeves of his black button-up above his elbows, revealing freckle-spattered skin that glistened as he shifted the torch from one hand to the other.

“Are we at least going the right way?” Crowley rolled his eyes and leaned against the wall, cocking a hip, watching as Aziraphale consulted the ancient map, his hands moving gently over the parchment, his brow furrowing in concentration.

“I do believe so. If we just continue down this way,” he gestured to the path behind Crowley, “we should be there in no time at all!” He beamed up at Crowley and carefully rolled the map up and replaced it into a leather blueprint tube, securing the lid, and sliding the strap across his chest, letting the document settle against his back.

“Alright, let’s go, then.” Crowley sighed and strode off down the tunnel, Aziraphale only a step behind.

“Wait, Crowley! We should be careful. There were numerous warnings in the texts.” Aziraphale’s hands worried at the strap across his chest, eyes scanning the floor and walls for signs of danger.

“Warnings about what?” Crowley huffed. “The demon that lurks the halls? I’m on your side, angel.’

“Yes, I know that, Crowley,” Aziraphale rolled his eyes. “But the texts were quite clear that were could be several-”

His words were replaced by yelps and screams as the floor disappeared under their feet, giving way, leaving them to tumble into the darkness below. They landed with heavy _thuds_.

“- traps.” Aziraphale finished breathily, splayed on his back against the cool stone, the document tube nestled against his chest. His hat had been lost during their sudden descent and he had landed on his hip before rolling to his back, the sharp pain fading as he brushed a hand over it.

“Thanks for the warning.” Crowley coughed out. He had landed in a puddle of limbs, tangled and curled in on himself. He sorted himself, sitting up and lifting a hand to his head, which was pounding from the impact, pulling it away to find blood smeared on his fingertips. He groaned from annoyance more than from pain.

“I did try,” Aziraphale pushed himself up to sit, trying to see into the darkness.

“Not hard enough!” Crowley snapped, wiping his hand on his trousers. “Still fell into this damn pit!”

“Crowley,” Aziraphale spoke softly, apologetically.

He felt the angel’s soft hand on the exposed skin of his forearm and he fought the urge to place his hand over it. He wasn’t ready to let go of his frustration quite yet.

“I am sorry for dragging you into this, but I am awfully glad to have your company.”

“Didn’t drag me into anything, angel. My decision.” Crowley grumbled, pulling away from Aziraphale’s touch to feel for the extinguished torch. When he located it, he pulled to toward himself, snapping his fingers to set it alight, then stood, offering his free hand to the angel. “Now let’s find a way out, yeah?”

Aziraphale placed his hand in Crowley’s and let himself be lifted to his feet. 

“Thank you, my deee-AAGH!” Aziraphale screamed and scrambled closer to Crowley, wrapping his sturdy arms around the demon’s chest from behind, pushing and pulling against Crowley’s body in an attempt to climb up onto his back.

“ANGEL!” Crowley yelped, nearly dropping the torch in an effort to keep Aziraphale from sliding off, wrapping his free arm behind him to support the angel.. “What in heaven’s name are you doing?”

“LOOK!” Aziraphale had managed to settle himself against Crowley’s back, his legs wrapped around his narrow hips, his arms firmly set around his neck. He released one arm just long enough to point, his head burying itself in Crowley’s shoulder.

He lifted the torch and the golden glow cast light further across the floor, which was dark, but alive. It moved in all directions, smoothly, without sound.

“Snakes?” Crowley laughed. “Angel! It’s just snakes!”

“Yes, I am very well aware of that!” Aziraphale panicked against Crowley’s shirt.

“You’re not afraid. Tell me you’re not afraid of snakes.” Crowley’s body was trembling with stifled chuckles.

“It’s not funny!” Aziraphale cried, distressed.

“It is! It’s actually hilarious! I’m a snake, angel!” He was fighting the urge to double over as his body shook with laughter.

“You’re one single snake! This is a room full of them! And I know you! I don’t know what they’ll do to me!” Aziraphale was whining now, shifting himself further up Crowley’s back, holding tighter.

“M’bigger than all of ‘em put together.” Crowley mused. “And they’re not going to do anything to you! Promise.”

“You don’t know that! Tell them to go away!” Aziraphale fussed.

“You’ll have to get down, you know.” Crowley placed a calming hand on Aziraphale’s arm.

“Must I?” his voice was small.

“Just for a minute. I promise, nothing will happen to you. Trust me?”

Crowley felt the angel’s iron grip loosen as he slid down to his feet.

“Always, my dear.” He smiled nervously and tried not to flinch as he registered movement from just beyond the circle of light.

“Just stay here,” Crowley pushed the torch into Aziraphale’s hand, giving it a gente squeeze before he pulled away. “I’ll be right back.” 

He slid downward gracefully, black scales shimmering in the flickering light, starting at his feet and working their way upwards until all that remained of Crowley’s familiar face were the slitted yellow eyes that Aziraphale so rarely got to see. He was coiled in on himself, large and powerful. His muscles rippled beneath his scaled skin as he stretched out his serpentine form, slithering around the circle of light, hissing softly. 

Aziraphale’s eyes trailed after him. It had been thousands of years since he’d last seen Crowley in this form and it was exquisite. The way his skin shimmered in the torchlight, the elegance of his movements, the wide, unblinking eyes that watched him as he circled the angel, a familiar and reassuring gesture.

He shortened his orbit, moving closer to Aziraphale, then came to a stop as he curled his body in a ring around his feet, nose touching tail, creating a barrier between the angel and the other snakes.

He hissed long and loud and the room grew still for a few long moments. Aziraphale held his breath, one hand against his chest, as if to dampen the sound of his heart thudding and thundering against his ribs.

There then came a chorus of smaller hisses as the snakes shifted, the dark mass moving to the outer edges of the room, not unlike the parting of the Red Sea, clearing a path across the room. 

Crowley slithered forward down the path, then paused, lifting his head and turning back to Aziraphale. He inclined his head towards the opposite side of the room, then continued on his way. The angel hesitantly followed, stepping carefully, as to avoid any other traps or snakes. 

Crowley led him across the large, cavernous room they had landed in, through a large archway, down a narrow hallway and into another room. This room was much smaller, claustrophobic. 

“Probably better that you’re in this form, my dear.” Aziraphale’s curls nearly brushed the ceiling. Crowley hissed gently in a response that might have been a chuckle. 

“Is this the right way?” 

He received a small nod from Crowley, who continued his serpentine path along the stone floor, to something that resembled an altar. It was long and low, carved with images of gods. Scattered along the top were idols and offerings of jewelry and metalwork. Nestled among the gifts was a large tome, bound and wrapped in cloth, as if mummified in this tomb. Aziraphale gasped at the sight of it.

“Is this it?”

Crowley slithered around, curling himself loosely around Aziraphale’s legs and waist, lifting his head to get a better look as the angel set the torch down against the altar. He reached out and gingerly lifted the cloth away, setting it aside. 

“I do wish I had my gloves,” he muttered, causing Crowley to hiss in exasperation, as if to say _just get on with it._

“Yes, yes. Alright!” Azirpahale replied, lifting it delicately between his wide hands, his eyes huge with anticipation, an astonished grin spreading across his face.

“ _Crowley_ ,” he breathed. “Thank you!”

He took careful, measured breaths as he gently opened the brown cover, which was crumbling at the corners, eyes moving furiously across the ancient pages, soaking in every marking. 

“It’s incredible! Dangerous, but incredible!” He beamed at Crowley, whose annoyance was finally waning, softened by the joy on his angel’s face. 

“I will need to study this in better conditions, of course, but I must thank you for your help, Crowley.” He gingerly shut the book, giving his full attention to his companion. “I doubt I’d have made it this far without you. I hope you know that I-”

Just then there was a rumble and a large cracking noise, which reverberated through the small room. The ground shook and the objects across the altar vibrated and clattered.

“What’s happening?” Aziraphale stood, frozen, eyes wide and panicked. “Earthquake?” He clutched the book to his chest and stared at Crowley.

As much as snakes can sigh, Crowley did, as he wrapped himself more tightly around his angel, then uncoiled and slithered away. He had to double back and nudge Aziraphale into moving before they made it out of the small room, down the narrow corridor, and into the cavernous space they had fallen into.

As he slithered towards the spot they had landed Crowley began to shift forms. His dark, scaly skin became pale and leathery, the powerful tail split into two lithe legs. Arms folded out from his sides, and, finally, smirking lips and tousled red hair appeared as the transformation was completed. 

Bits of stone were falling from the ceiling and the pillars scattered about the room began to crumble, sunlight streaming in through cracks in the roof.

Aziraphale weaved around the debris as quickly as he could, but was falling behind. He was breathing hard, his feet unsure, his arms cradling the book.

“Crowley!” He cried as he lurched to a stop, narrowly avoiding some serious damage to his corporation as a large chunk of pillar toppled in front of him.

“Wings, angel!” Crowley instructed as he dashed back to Aziraphale. He grabbed his elbow, practically lifting him off his feet and carrying him to the entrance. 

As instructed, Aziraphale pearly white wings burst into view, as did Crowley’s iridescent black feathers, careful not to injure the other or push him away.

“Now!” Crowley hissed in his ear, then pulled away as they beat their wings, a powerful movement that lifted them out of the pit, Crowley letting Aziraphale take the lead. They were gliding down the tunnel towards the entrance, wings cramped, but carrying them far more quickly than their feet would have as the destruction continued behind them.

They burst into the cool night air and Crowley whooped as he somersaulted and twirled through the air.

“That was an adventure! And to think, I almost missed it!” he laughed, bright, clear and joyous.

“Really, dear! We were almost discorporated!” Aziraphale was breathing heavily, dropping down to his feet and folding his wings away.

“ _You_ were almost discorporated. I was doing just fine.” Crowley dropped down beside him, a wide grin gracing his sharp features.

“I beg your pardon!” Aziraphale’s brow was furrowed tightly, but his eyes twinkled with good humor.

“No need to beg, angel. S’why I came along, isn’t it? To keep you out of trouble? Sure hope it was all worth it!”” Crowley snatched the book from Aziraphale’s arms and flipped through it, earning him a symphony of stuttered reprimands.

“Please don’t! You’re handling it all wrong! Crowley! Please! It’s very delicate!” Aziraphale reached around, trying to take the book, but the demon held it just out of reach. “ _Crowley_!” he pouted, crossing his arms and pushing out his lower lip.

“Fine,” Crowley surrendered, holding the book out and allowing the angel to take it. He was never good at denying Aziraphale.

The angel shrugged out of his jacket and wrapped it protectively around the tome.

“Thank you,” Aziraphale sighed, once again pressing it against his chest.

“You do realize you could have just miracled the snakes away, right?” Crowley smirked, brushing some dust off of his sleeve.

“No! I- well- that is to say,” Aziraphale sputtered, “you could have as well!”  
“Could’ve, but my way was much more fun!” Crowley winked dramatically, shoving his hands into his pockets.

“Fun? Ostentatious, perhaps, but not _fun_.” Aziraphale chided.

“No need to pretend, angel! I know you, and I know you love a good show!” Crowley began to walk back towards the town.

“It’s not a show when my life… er… corporation is in danger! Not to mention the trouble the humans could have gotten up to with this book! Best if I keep it safe.” He patted the book with one hand, letting the other fall to his side.

“Always looking out for humanity,” Crowley smiled softly, his hand falling to his side, gently brushing against Aziraphale’s. His heart fluttered in his chest.

“Well someone’s got to.” The angel’s cheeks burned crimson. “It’s rather a good thing I’ve got someone looking out for me, too, don’t you think?” He turned to smile at Crowley, soft and serene in the moonlight.

“Shut _uuuup_.” Crowley rolled his eyes and curled his pinky finger around Aziraphale’s.


End file.
